The ichneumon flies are out busy and alert, they have renewed fire, happiness in their veins,
Gossamer is seen in this season covering the grass with its films of silken cottony threads,
By the foot paths the common currant is beautiful with its pendant racemes still with flower,
In days long, long ago I could not have named but a handful of flowers, I can now name all.
But that did not matter, names are names only, if something warms your heart does it matter,
If you met a stranger and sat down talking would he be a better person if his name was known,
Some people I would trust with my life after few words others I know well, I would walk away,
Beautiful people roam this world, just to meet such a person, would enrich a lifetime forever.
Categories:
ichneumon, nature,
Form: Dramatic Verse
The primroses still continue their welcome bloom on the commons on a May day,
With scattered oaks and rich thickets the birds chirping the days are longer,
Hundreds of nightingales singing together, sad songs from an enchanted forest,
A cuckoo is heard from deep in the fairy forest and the rich grasses knee deep.
Mornings now are not so dark, the pools and streams flow white with ranunculus,
Foxglove leaves are springing up, firm and green in the woods and on many banks,
Soon it will be time to dig and hoe, the red and black spotted butterfly flies,
Time to wander over ancient commons, the ichneumon flies are out busy and alert.
It's so nice to see the spring again in gardens the common current is so lovely,
Hedges luxuriantly green, the perfume of hawthorn, everything is just beautiful,
The woods to which the young people used to go out before day break, a-maying,
The sky with dark whitish clouds scudding their way to the sea, maybe some rain.
Categories:
ichneumon, nature,
Form: Prose Poetry
The primroses still continue their welcome bloom on the commons on a May day,
With scattered oaks and rich thickets the birds chirping the days are longer,
Hundreds of nightingales singing together, sad songs from an enchanted forest,
A cuckoo is heard from deep in the fairy forest and the rich grasses knee deep.
Mornings now are not so dark, the pools and streams flow white with ranunculus,
Foxglove leaves are springing up, firm and green in the woods and on many banks,
Soon it will be time to dig and hoe, the red and black spotted butterfly flies,
Time to wander over ancient commons, the ichneumon flies are out busy and alert.
It's so nice to see the spring again in gardens the common current is so lovely,
Hedges luxuriantly green, the perfume of hawthorn, everything is just beautiful,
The woods to which the young people used to go out before day break, a-maying,
The sky with dark whitish clouds scudding their way to the sea, maybe some rain.
Categories:
ichneumon, nature,
Form: Prose Poetry